A royal birth is traditionally the occasion for celebration. When the civilised world was ruled by kings and disputed succession might mean civil war and the threat of foreign invasion then the hopes of an entire nation would be invested in a new-born child, and especially a first-born son.
At Christmas we celebrate the birth of a royal Son who carries within Himself the fulfilment of all our deepest human aspirations. The Nativity is a royal birth with a difference. There are no palace walls or gates, and no guards, to protect this royal Child; and although a convoy of V.I.P.s will eventually make its way to Bethlehem from the East, the first subjects to pay homage to this Child will be some shepherds summoned from the surrounding hills by an angel. Our Lord was born into the cold and the dark of a winter’s night. As they knelt to adore the Child in a manger, however, those shepherds must have realised that they would never have to fear the dark again. With the faith infused into their souls on that first Christmas Eve, their hearts were warmed by the rays of divine light that streamed out of the manger and into the world around them.
The arrival of the King of Kings in a stable rather than a palace is no accident. His desire is that we should be moved to offer Him a home within our hearts. An army would be completely useless in establishing the sort of reign that He intends. He has not come to govern by force of arms. Rather He has come to take possession of our hearts by invitation. He asks for entry, but we always remain free to lock Him out. There is of course a catch. Around December, animal welfare societies have been known to put up posters declaring “A pet is not just for Christmas”. And the Christ-Child is certainly not just for Christmas. Once accepted, the divine gift of the new life that He offers us has to be fed and nurtured. We must become sensitive to what nourishes that life, and we have to learn to avoid whatever is harmful to its flourishing. The life of grace has to be sustained by loving contact with its divine origin, through prayer and worship. It must be made incarnate in good works.
At the beginning of the Midnight Mass a life-size plaster figure of the Christ Child is carried in procession and enthroned above the High Altar where it remains for the whole Christmas season surrounded by golden rays. This painted figure is a holy image, which is why we venerate it; but it is only a figure. Directly underneath it is the Sacred Reality that it represents. If only we had the faith of those shepherds in Bethlehem, then perhaps we should be able to see the rays of divine light escaping from behind the veil of the Tabernacle, and our hearts would glow in the warmth that they exude. Our Lord did not just come to us once, on a winter’s night, two thousand years ago in Palestine. He comes to us every day on the Altar. He comes to feed and to nourish us with His living Body and Blood. He remains on the Altar so that we might always find rest, peace and strength in His Presence. Perhaps we have set our hearts on some particular gift this Christmas. The best gift by far that we can ever receive is Our Lord in Holy Communion. That little white disc is infinitely more precious than the whole material universe in all its majesty. The Sacred Host is God Himself.
For many of us there are considerable preparations to be made in the days preceding Christmas. We must almost make time to reflect on the message of Advent: “Make straight the way of the Lord”. The most important preparations to be made are spiritual, and the best way we can ready ourselves to participate in the joy of Our Lord’s Nativity is by going to Confession. The Sacrament of Penance transforms the lowly stable of our hearts into the palace that was denied to the Christ Child in Bethlehem, and makes us living tabernacles able to receive the Word Made Flesh in Holy Communion. Let us give Him the best welcome we can this Christmas.
Father Julian Large